


And time moves on...

by lara_s



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, Odo returns, Post-Episode: s07e25 What You Leave Behind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 19:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5304500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lara_s/pseuds/lara_s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odo returns from link after 150 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And time moves on...

_< We will go now. You will go now>_. In the way of his people, it was said and understood all at once. He could no more disobey than a humanoid’s limb could refuse a command from the brain to move. Nor did that part of him that was individual, separate from the rest and capable of defiance, particularly want to refuse the directive. It was his voice among them that had been clamoring for a chance to return to the realm of the solids after all.

Slowly, haltingly, liquid gradually took form. It was, not surprisingly, rather disorienting to his senses at first but his molecules eventually remembered how it was done. As part of the great link, he’d maintained his awareness of himself as a distinct entity, but at the same time was absorbed into a greater whole. To be entirely on his own again, apart and cut off from the greater whole, well, it was both exhilarating and frightening. The link was simply indescribable to those who had only the frame of reference of a solid, though he recalled one solid who had come close to understanding. It was a completely different form of existence his people had. Their worlds had collided with disastrous consequences previously. He, who was unique in having existed as both changeling and solid, strove to keep such mutual fears and apprehension from ever happening again.

And so, adrift and sent out once more, he boarded the small shuttle that had been left for him and took off for the only other place he knew as home.  

_____________________________________________________________________________________

He was there again. Jena peered out the window and watched the solitary figure settle himself on the park bench across the street. Just like he had yesterday and the day before that too. Five days in a row now she’d seen him there. He typically showed up as the sun rose and left at some point as she was closing up at nightfall. If he moved from the bench at all during the day, she didn’t notice it. Even when one of Dahkur providence’s renowned summer storms had swept through, the rain and the wind hadn’t deterred him. He’d sat out there the whole day regardless.

It was _so_ strange. She wasn’t able to focus on her work, every couple minutes she found herself imagining who he was and what he might be doing. At first, she’d thought he was some sort of derelict wanderer with nowhere else to go. But Bajor didn’t have such a population of displaced persons anymore. Not since the long ago days of the occupation and its immediate aftermath. Her next idea was that he was perhaps a meditating Vedek or initiate, but that didn’t seem very likely either.

Finally, by the mid-day hour, Jena couldn’t take it any longer. Determined, she scooped enough hasperat for two into a bowl and headed across the street intending to offer him some food and hopefully appease her curiosity.

“Excuse me, sir?” Up close, Jena realized the man was human. Middle aged, perhaps slightly older, she wasn’t entirely sure. He seemed a little strange looking even for a human, but then again, she was no expert on other species identification. What with Starfleet and the federation around for some time now, humans weren’t exactly uncommon on Bajor, but she didn’t happen to spend very much time with any well herself.

As she approached, the man acknowledged her presence with a grunt and a nod of his head in her direction, but said nothing.

“Hi. I’m Jena. I work at the bakery over there,” she continued, gesturing towards the shop. “We have extra hasperat today, would you care for any? Our treat.”

A gruff “Thank you, but I am not hungry,” was all she got in answer, though it was said not altogether unkindly.

Jena considered herself a sociable, outgoing kind of girl. She was also rather relentless once she got an idea in her head. She wasn’t about to let the mystery of this stranger go so easily. Not deterred in the slightest by his mild rebuke, she tried a different approach. “Are you new to Bajor? Memory Park here is one of my favorite places. It is so beautiful isn’t it? And so peaceful.”      

To Jena’s delight, this seems to inspire him to respond.

“It is beautiful here, yes. I’d nearly forgotten just how much so. You see, I was, in a sense, raised on Bajor,” he says, to Jena’s surprise. “This world, this place is not new to me. And yet, it’s the same but everything is so different from the last time I was here…” his voice trails off for a moment lost in thought but then he picks it up again. “Since you seem to want to converse with me, please, what is the meaning of this statue?”

The statue in question in front of them is an extremely popular, well known piece. For whatever reason, it doesn’t occur to Jena that, if this man was in fact raised on Bajor, it’s somewhat odd that he doesn’t recognize it. Etched in stone, it features a rather realistic rendering of a fierce young Bajoran woman in a tattered Militia uniform kneeling on one knee and holding a phaser ready to shoot. Behind her, standing up, is a second depiction of the same woman, this time dressed in a Starfleet Commander’s uniform and holding a padd. If one looks closely enough, they can see the padd contains the words of the declaration that brought Bajor into the united federation of planets.

Jena hadn’t noticed it when she first walked up, but at the foot of the statue is a large bouquet of fresh Terran red roses. That’s new. Left by this peculiar visitor?

“This is called The Faces of Bajor,” she tells him. “It’s a memorial to a great figure in recent Bajoran history. It’s meant to represent the resilience and the spirit of our people. First, we have the resistance fighter,” she says pointing to the crouched figure with the phaser, “who fights for Bajoran independence. Then, with independence achieved, she becomes a diplomat of sorts, ushering in a new era of peace and prosperity for Bajor.”

“What happened to her? How did she die? And when?”

“Who? The woman in the statue?”

“Yes.”

“She jumped in front of a phaser blast meant for Kai Terel when a fringe extremist group tried to assassinate him. She saved his life but died herself the following day of her injuries. The anniversary of the death of Kira Nerys is a national Bajoran day of remembrance. One hundred and fifty two years as of last planting season.”

Jena stares, shocked at the expression on the man’s face as he turns around and looks at her. There’s no mistaking the sadness and anguish in his tortured gaze. She could swear she hears him mutter something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like, “Prophets, I should have known she’d do something like that.” More audibly, he asks hesitantly; “Would you mind very much telling me more about her?”

“Every Bajoran school child knows the story of Kira Nerys.” Smiling, Jena says, “And I can do you one better than standing out here and reciting it all to you. Particularly since I may know the basics but I’m not much of a student of history. It’s slow at the shop right now. Why don’t you come use our computer terminal? You can access the national archives from there and do as much research as you’d like.”

The strange man’s curiosity about the Bajoran heroine must have won out over any reservations he may have had. Jena thought for a moment he might refuse, but after a moment’s pause he ultimately stood up from the bench. “I will take you up on that offer then.”

For all his strangeness the man seemed to know his way around a computer, so she left him to it. Three hours later, Jena put the final batch of tomorrow’s pastries on the shelf and went to check on her guest. She found him still in the chair by the computer terminal. His entire being almost seemed to be shimmering and flickering in and out. _I sure need to change the lighting in here_ , she thought. Hesitating in the doorway, Jena didn’t want to intrude, but he noticed her presence and waved her over.

Highlighted on the screen was a document Jena recognized as the final words of Kira Nerys, penned on her deathbed and memorialized. The iconic text was mostly an appeal to fellow Bajorans to take pride in themselves and their history and to trust in the prophets to guide them. At the conclusion was a short block of text that appeared to be gibberish. The mystery man pointed to these lines. “Do you know what this means?”

“No, no one does.” Jena gave him a quizzical look. “If I remember correctly, most scholars think that’s the point at which Kira was no longer coherent; either succumbing to the considerable pain she must have been in or loopy from a hypospray to keep the pain at bay.”

He shook his head. “No. Kira most likely would have refused drugs in order to be in her right mind to write this. And these final lines, this isn’t an accident, it’s a very specific coded message.” He lightly traced a finger over the words on the screen, as if by doing so he could touch their long ago author, and, in a voice choked up with emotion, began to read:

                _Beloved, if you ever come back, I imagine you’ll look up what became of me and find this. I’m counting on the fact that I’ve become famous enough my words will actually be preserved for posterity. Crazy isn’t it? There’s a separate letter for you that’s being sent to a mutual friend of ours for safe keeping. Know that I never stopped loving you._

Jena’s jaw dropped to the floor as he finished. “How?” she managed to stutter out. “You didn’t even seem to know who Kira was but that’s not true is it? You can decipher her script?”

“It’s simple really. A form of writing the Shakaar resistance cell developed to pass messages to each other during the occupation,” he said. “From what I read earlier, Shakaar Edon evidently preceded her in death. With him dead, when Kira wrote this she knew there was only one other person left in the galaxy who could understand it. Someone she herself had taught it to once.”

“You,” Jena said softly. It was all starting to make sense now as she recalled her long ago and somewhat fuzzy history lessons. “The changeling who was on Deep Space Nine. The one who helped end the Dominion War and then disappeared. You were there. You knew Kira personally.” She stared at him in awe.

“Yes. As a solid during that time I was known to Kira and others as Odo.”

Jena knew there was a good deal of academic speculation as to whether Kira and the shapeshifter had been romantically linked. Evidently, based on Kira’s hidden words and Odo’s demeanor, it was true. “You came to find out what happened to her after you left then?”

“Neither one of us were counting on it, I couldn’t promise anything and she understood that, but I had always hoped to return to her. Time unfolds differently on my world. I wasn’t able to leave before now. One hundred and fifty two years too late,” he said rather despondently.

“Well Odo, you did finally make it. Do you want to track down the letter she wrote you?” Jena grinned at him. “This is amazing. Do you know where she could have sent it? She didn’t give you very much to go on did she?”

“Quark, for all his shady business deals, probably could have been relied upon to keep it for her and have it delivered it to me, even after his death. Assuming she’d paid him enough latinum,” he mused. “Quark also undoubtedly would have peaked and read the letter. And Nerys wouldn’t have referred to him as a mutual friend.” He shook his head. “No, not Quark. Given to the O’Brians, perhaps. Or the Sisko’s. They were the closest she had to a family back then. Though, Jake and even little Kirayoshi must be long gone by now. They are all gone.”

The only name Jena recognized in Odo’s litany was that of the emissary. How sad and lonely it must be, she thought, to return to a place only to find everyone you knew there had long since passed away. “If Kira hadn’t been expecting to see you again in her lifetime, she must have anticipated the possibility it wouldn’t be for generations later that you would return,” Jena said.

“Yes, she would have. But who else is still around?” Odo could hear Nerys’ voice, clear as a bell in his mind, her gentle laughter teasing him as she once did, _Come on Detective, you can figure it out._ “A data chip left with Vic is certainly one possible solution, but I don’t think she would have risked his program somehow being wiped out and the information lost.” And then it hit him. “Of course. There is one other person who isn’t necessarily gone.” He turned back to the consul. “Computer, provide all records pertaining to, and the current location of, a trill national known as Dax.”

Riian Dax, once they located him, turned out to be an attractive, youngish, rouge looking freighter captain. Despite Odo’s quick explanation about Trills Jena had a hard time believing this Dax character was in fact a roughly four hundred and something year old being who, in another lifetime, had once been a Starfleet Commander and contemporary of Kira Nerys’. Jena’s doubts were erased though once they got him on the com link. Dax recognized Odo instantly.

“It’s been a long time my friend,” he said. “Jadzia and Ezri’s memories of you have been transferred from host to host over the years. We’ve all been expecting you to show up eventually one of these days. I’m honored to be the one to actually meet you. As you must have figured out, we’ve been holding onto something for you that I’m sure you’re anxious to see. I’ll send you the data link Nerys left for you immediately.” Dax grinned. “And Odo, if you end up sticking around for a while, please do let me know.”

As the message came through, Jena took the liberty of reaching out and giving the changeling’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the next room.” He grunted, barely acknowledging her, eyes never leaving the computer screen.

It had taken them some time to locate Dax and it was now well into the middle of the night. Jena sat down on the couch in the break room. She figured she’d read on her padd for an hour or two or for however long Odo took. Instead, without even realizing it, she fell fast asleep. She awoke the next morning, stiff and uncomfortable. Odo was nowhere to be found. Beside the computer was a hastily scribed hand written note in classic Bajoran that said simply ‘thank you’. On top of the note, an old style earring. Jena smiled. She’d have to look it up to confirm, but she suspected the emblem on the earring was that of the Kira clan. Jena slipped it in her pocket. Somehow, someway, she knew the changeling had found his peace and she was glad to have been a part in helping him do so.

Indeed, Odo was on his way back to the founder’s planet. Once he returned, he knew he would never again emerge into the world of the solids. Until he got back though, he read the words of his once lover one more time and remembered.  


End file.
